


Understandings - Hopefully

by jaimistoryteller



Series: Moments in Another Life [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: BAMF Q, Gen, Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-22 01:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11370141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimistoryteller/pseuds/jaimistoryteller
Summary: Things don’t always go smoothly, but sometimes people can come to an understanding anyways.





	1. Fury

**Author's Note:**

> Since I didn't realize that only two prompts off a prompt table can be used per story, I used all nine here, and there will be four more stories where all nine are used again in this set.
> 
> Based on prompts from [General Prompt Table](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/post/162379048040/007-fest-prompt-tables)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner provided by the lovely [Linorien](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Linorien) posted on her [blog](http://spiritofcamelot.tumblr.com/)

James’ POV

The first time he has a chance to visit the new quartermaster in his own domain while not on a mission doesn’t go anything like he expected. There are several agents down here, though none of them his fellow Double-O’s. It is one of the young ones, a new agent he doesn’t know that sets the room off like a match to petrol. That agent made the mistake of groping the dark haired boffin’s arse in front of the entire room as he walked by Q’s workstation. The next thing anyone in the room knows, the agent is pinned face first against that very workstation by a furious quartermaster.

“Don’t touch me again,” the Quartermaster hisses, wrenching the agent’s right arm back and up, palm pressed hard to the base of the skull.

The room is dead silent. No one is speaking as they stare in horror and shock at their boss. The agent seems to be frozen as well, as if he hadn’t expected that sort of reaction and doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Touch me or anyone else in this branch without an invitation, and you’ll be what get’s practiced on when I make improvements to the weapons rather than one of the test dummies.” Q continues softly, his voice as cold as the antarctic circle in winter.

The agent continues to say nothing. Doesn’t even show that he understood or heard what the boffin had to say. He’s still frozen in place, unable to move from shock and pain from the looks of it.

Q wrenches the agent’s arm further up, “Understand?”

“Sir,” the agent gasps.

“Excellent.” Letting go, Q steps back but doesn’t drop his guard. It’s easy to see that despite his relaxed posture, he could easily defend himself if need be.  

Slowly the agent stands. Left hand grabbing hold of his right arm to support it even as he flinches in pain.

“Escort him to medical. He doesn’t get pain medication. Afterwards put him through retraining.” Q orders, voice cool and smooth as a lake while security nods that they understand and lead the agent away.

With that, it’s as if the room has come back alive, everyone goes back to what they were doing before. There are people talking and computers suddenly being used.

Turning to his station, the dark haired boffin queries, “What can I do for you Bond?”

“I was just coming to see how things run when you aren’t dealing with an international incident.” He replies cheekily, glancing towards the doors the agent had been escorted out of. “Apparently exciting.”

“If you don’t need something, feel free to leave,” the younger man replies as he types. “As you can see, things are busy, even without you blowing something up.”

“So I see,” he agrees calmly, the hints of a smirk curling his lips.

He prowls around for a bit before leaving with plenty of things to think about. Namely the fact his quartermaster isn’t as defenseless as Q first appears. He’ll definitely have to make a few more unexpected trips to Q-Branch.


	2. Broken

Q’s POV

He’s not surprised when Mallory calls him upstairs to the office. Actually, he was expecting it to happen a lot sooner. It’s more surprising that it took exactly two hours for the news to reach the older man and for him to be summoned for explanations. 

“R, keep an eye on 005,” he tells his second as he closes his computer for the moment. He very rarely leaves his workstation running when he’s not at it. Preferring that his underlings use their own system and can’t access his as it has a bit more on it than theirs. 

“Of course,” she agrees, heading towards the observation station set up at the very front of the room, even in front of his preferred workstation in the middle of the room. 

Turning on the balls of his feet, he heads towards the lift, still working on a piece of code in his mind for one of the new guns he wants to improve. It takes less than five minutes for him to get upstairs and to the office. 

“He’s waiting for you,” Ms. Moneypenny informs him with a nod towards the door. 

“Thank you,” he replies, opening it and stepping in. “M,” he greets the older man, arching a dark brow in question. He knows that the incident report has been received and read already. He’s not sure exactly why he is here. Except he knows precisely why he was called up. 

“Did you have to break his arm while dislocating his shoulder?“ Mallory asks bluntly. 

He tips his head slightly to the side, biting back the smirk his lips keep trying to twist into, “Had he acknowledge I was speaking to him, the chance are he would only have a dislocated shoulder rather than a broken one.” 

Sighing, the older man pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters, “I expect that sort of thing out of the agents, even the trainers, but not out of Q-Branch.”

“Well,” he reasons calmly, “I’m sure word will spread that there is to be no sexual harassment among my staff.”

“Did you really promise to shoot him if he didn’t keep his hands to himself?” Mallory asks him as he motions to the chair. 

This time he doesn’t stop the smirk as he replies, “I told him I’d use him in place of the test dummies for the weapon improvements. I didn’t say which weapon improvements.” 

A dry chuckle is the only response he gets as M pours them both something dark amber to drink and hands up one of the glasses. 

“I really should expect the unexpected out of you.” His boss states before downing the cup, “It’s probably a good thing I don’t have a lot of hair or it’d be turning gray instantly.”

“I’m sure I could come up with a more effective formula than rogaine,” he offers before taking a drink from his glass. “Besides, I’m nothing compared to the havoc of the Double-O’s.”

M just pours them both more before Ms. Moneypenny pages them to state he’s needed down stairs. 

“Sir,” he states as he stands, nodding once as Mallory waves him away in a clear dismissal. 


	3. In Need

Q’s POV

He loses track of the hours and days as he works. His entire focus is on dealing with how the mission had gone sideways as he suspected it would when he was on his way up to Mallory’s office. While he understands that the Double-O’s are used to working using their own instincts and intelligence, sometimes they should try listening when he gives directions. It would make everyone’s lives just a bit easier. He’s not giving the directions for the giggles of it, contrary to what most of the agents seem to think. He really prefers not to do damage control all things considering.

By the time the mess is cleaned up 005 is in medical with poor chances of survival and 003 has mopped up the disaster and managed to save the mission. Thankfully she takes better care of advice given and doesn’t just dismiss it out of hand. There may be hope yet. 

Of course, now that the crisis is dealt with and he is no longer focused on his goal, he finds himself blinking at his screen, trying to determine exactly how long he has been at work on this situation. There’s a half drunk mug of tea beside his keyboard on the left and a small plate full of crumbs from what he is assuming was a sandwich on the right.

Minion Tom, one of the junior computer analysts,  is hovering nearby, watching him closely rather than working at his normal station. 

“How long,” he asks when he notices that it’s ten pm, though he doesn’t know of what day because he changed the clock settings a while ago. He found that easier than knowing what day he is on when working one of these long shifts.

Tom’s mouth opens, eyes wide as if caught off guard or is trying to figure out the answer to that question. 

“Forty-nine hours,” R answers as she approaches from checking on some of the underlings working on other situations and tasks. Studying him frankly to determine what sort of condition he is in, if her expression is anything to go by. 

“That explains why I am suddenly tired.” He glances between her and his computer. “I will be in my office if anything comes up,” he informs them as he shuts everything down and turns towards the small room he has claimed for himself. 

“I’ll deal with anything not life or death,” she tells him firmly. 

He just nods in agreement. He doesn’t currently feel like arguing. Besides, he needs to get at least a little bit of sleep if he wants to be able to handle anything that does come up. It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t require a lot of sleep to function. 

A few minutes later he is sprawled on his sofa with most his layers folded on his desk chair. The lights dimmed to a very soft blue glow from just his tower.  The door locked and trapped if someone tries to pick the locks so he can get some rest. After all, dealing with and doing things for the greater good is a lot more effective if he isn’t dead on his feet. 


	4. Free Fall

James’ POV

A few days after his trip to the branch to look around for the fun of it, he finds himself down there again. This time to get his equipment for the mission he’s getting sent out for. He’s not sure what to make of Q when he realizes the younger man is not wearing the many layers he normally wears.

It gives him a chance to study exactly what’s hidden beneath those layers. Makes him curious to see that the boffin is not reed thin like he figured. Actually, he does a double take as he follows the smaller man into the next room over, he’s pretty sure he’s missing something. Generally he is good at getting a read on a person from how they move or act, but there is something throwing him off with his understanding.

When they get to one of the workbenches Q stops, turning partly to face him even as the boffin reaches for different things and quickly assembles them. “I just finished the update to the Walther,” the quartermaster tells him. “Technically right before things went sideways I finished it. But it feels like I just did so. New earpiece, it doesn’t require a phone to work and is so far waterproof up to six meters. Knowing you, you’ll find some other way to break it. These are smoke bombs, coded to you so only you can activate them, press the top and hold for five seconds, a small light will glow. They have an added effect of knocking everything in the immediate area out, so try not to breath it in. The smoke lasts for three minutes.”

He can’t stop the chuckle, doesn’t even bother trying because Q is so serious, and sounds as if he is almost bored with the explanation.

Sighing, the dark haired genius pushes his glasses back up as he remarks, “I wish you lot would actually trust me to know what I am talking about.”

That catches his attention more than anything else said so far. Particularly when he realizes he missed something.

“This will copy any device with wifi in the area. Try not to lose it as it is the primary reason you’re going.” Q informs him as he holds up a small stick that has a USB port on the end though he’s sure it’s not actually needed. “If for some reason the information isn’t able to be accessed with the wifi, plug this in and let it run until it says to unplug it.”

“Of course Q,” he agrees amicably, watching the younger man close up the small box with his supplies in it before handing it over.

“All the documentation is in the top of it,” there is something dismissive about that statement, but not at the same time. Another time he feels like he is missing something.

As he walks away, replying the mission brief in his mind as he goes, he tries to categorize those things that aren’t adding up. He’s not sure why the quartermaster thinks that he doesn’t trust him. If he didn’t trust Q, he wouldn’t bother with the coms and asking for options when he knows he’s in a tight position.

It’s a lot like the trust building game of free fall, not one he ever excelled at, but he’s pretty sure he’d let Q catch him. He’s even more sure that Q would catch him, if he let the boffin. Now isn’t that something to think about later. In the down time and slow parts where his mind didn’t need to be focused on what’s in front of him.


	5. Tired

M’s POV

He’s moderately certain that he was not as equipped for this position as he originally thought. This is what she meant by that slight upturn of her frown into a knowing smirk before she died. The previous M realized it, and didn’t tell him, probably because she knew it would change nothing.

He thought the agents, the Double-O’s in particular were going to be the hard part. Apparently he shouldn’t have counted the Q-Branch out. While they have become a much more organized and technologically dangerous section, that isn’t actually what makes their unit a possible problem. No, that would be their quartermaster. The youngest quartermaster on record. A genius with a vicious streak and not a single, solitary file anywhere.

It’s rather frustrating. Particularly since that incident with Williams and the broken shoulder blade. Yes, he wants one of his executives able to defend himself but from all accounts, Q was in complete control as he pinned and broke the idiot’s arm. So he was going to look into it. See why the dark haired man would react in such a manner. There’s only one problem: he can’t find anything on Q. Nothing. Nada. Even the house he is buying and the cat’s vet bills are all arranged through a solicitor, Q’s name withheld.

He set up an appointment to talk to the man, and to his shock discovered it was a previous Double-O, one who managed to make it to retirement, though a little earlier than the standard age, due to an injury. The solicitor had just smiled at him grimly, but hadn’t answered any of the questions he really wanted answered. It was exhausting.

That leaves him back with his original issue. Now what to do about it? Probably nothing. At least until it becomes a true problem and not just a nuisance. Actually, Tanner probably has some information on Q, he’ll ask the Chief of Staff the next time they have a private moment to discuss things. In the meanwhile, he’s going home and sleeping.


	6. Boring

James’ POV

Most of his mission went without a hitch. He didn’t even need to kill anyone or blow anything up until the end of it. Of course, at that point it seemed like there was a lot of things getting blown up and people being killed. Right up until there wasn’t. 

“Hello again, Mr. Bond,” a creepy voice greets him, reminding him of Silva, but definitely not Silva since he made damned sure that Silva was dead. 

Turning slowly, he finds himself staring at an agent who had gone rogue. Not one he knew personally, someone from before his time but still someone he had seen in older files. This was probably one of those situations where things were not anything like anyone expected. That figures. In a way it’s a relief. He knows how to deal with people like this. It’s really simple after Silva.

The man’s taller than him, though not by much. Ragged looking, as if no matter how hard the traitor attempts to keep up with appearances, it’s  just not working. Probably too many years on the run, never knowing when the blade would fall and he’d lose his head. 

He’s made his choice long before this traitor has a chance to do or say anything. He doesn’t even bother giving the traitor a chance to introduce himself. Instead he’s got the Walther up and aimed, a breath later it’s fired, and less than a moment the traitor crumbles to the ground dead. A clean circle directly between the brows just above the nose bridge. 

He’d be pleased with the shot if it hadn’t been so damned easy. Still, it definitely beats a lot of the other options that he really doesn’t feel like handling right now. He could have caught the man and had him taken somewhere with a black hood in order to eliminate him that way while gathering possible useful information. He could have knocked the traitor out and walked away. Come back to deal with him later, on orders rather than on his own impulsive realization and choice.

‘ _Is everything under control?_ ’ Q asks calmly, a reassuring voice in his ear. Seeking information but not pressing for anything more than he is ready to share. 

Rather than answer aloud, he tugs his phone out, taking a quick picture and sending it to the quartermaster. That should be plenty of explanation. 

‘ _That answers that question,_ ’ the boffin murmurs almost distractedly. ‘ _Finish up and catch your flight. Everything should be relatively smooth sailing from what I can currently gather. You’ve done an excellent job of dealing with every single issue so far._ ’

“Yes Q,” he agrees as he smirks at the computer in front of him, making sure everything is copied on the drive he was given before leaving. 

He’s rather relieved that this mission didn’t end up being boring, despite the fact it was mostly an intel gathering. He got to blow something up, he’s going to be returning the majority of his equipment, and he got to shoot the problem between the eyes, effectively eliminating it. He’d definitely call this mission an unquestionable success. 


	7. Bright Outside

Q’s POV

After spending so much time between the bullpen and the lab, the brightness of outside, even though it is overcast, is a bit much for his eyes. There is a reason he likes working inside away from the light of day. Namely the fact sunlight makes his eyes burn and water, often causing headaches before he’s done much more than step out the door. 

Right then, he pivots and heads back inside. He’ll sleep on his sofa for a few hours, and when it gets darker he’ll go home. 

“What are you doing back?” R almost demands, a touch of worry coloring her tone. 

“I decided another nap on my sofa would be good. I can head home in a bit.” He answers, not mentioning the fact his problem is with the light. The fact that even when overcast there’s too much of it and after spending several days working in front of his computer, he’s not ready to deal with it. None of that is important to her. 

She just hums in response. He’s pretty sure that’s not a positive hum either.

Back in his office, he gets comfortable on the sofa, planning on taking his second nap here in a week. 

Three hours later he’s back up and leaving after checking that all the underlings are on task. 

This time when he steps outside, it’s not nearly as bright, and his eyes quickly adjust to the differences between indoors and dusk. He debates between catching a cab and taking the tube. Eventually deciding to just walk because he needs to get the exercise. 

Five minutes after he left the building he spots the fact he has a tail in the reflection of a building he’s passing. It takes him a moment to place which agent it is as it’s one of the younger ones and he works with the Double-O’s and senior agents more often. 

Declan Conner, junior agent, mostly given secondary jobs. Shows potential but isn’t always the best at thinking on his feet. Or, more exact, he can think on his feet and handles a crisis well, but if he’s given even more than thirty seconds his brain seems to freeze. 

Well, now that the sunset is almost done, and since he’s feeling rather energetic after his nap, he might as well play with the agent. Following him is a good exercise, might even help Declan improve his tracking ability. 

Grinning impishly, he shifts the way he is carrying his computer bag and promptly turns down a side alley before ducking into one of the buildings. The doorman simply nods at him as he keeps going, taking one of the other exits into a different alley before returning to his path of heading home. It takes the agent a good ten minutes to find him and fall back into following him. 

Still grinning, he makes another detour. This time stopping at a cafe to get himself something to drink since he didn’t bring anything with him. He really does need to get himself a proper thermos. There has to be at least one that he can keep for long time frames for when he is out and about in the shadows of evening or early morning. 

Over the next hour he spends his time losing his tail and having it picked back up until he is two buildings over from his place. Well, the one on file anyways. He’s got another, one that he actually lives in. 

As he takes a private route into the building, one that the agent probably doesn’t know about unless Declan was smart enough to look up floor plans, and he knows a lot of them never do, he wonders if he should make his late night and early morning walks a common thing for the younger agents to try and figure out. Since neither are done in the brightness of day, there are plenty of shadows for him to hide in and ways to keep his eyes from hurting. 

For tonight, it’s time to get some rest. He can think about that a bit more after he has a few more hours sleep. 


	8. Curiosity

Q’s POV

A week later he’s working on several of the premade kits for basic usage when he gets an email that outlines what four different agents will need and when. Along with small blurbs about what mission numbers they are being sent on. Since he keeps track of the missions, whether they are ones the senior agents and Double-O’s are being used on or not, he immediately starts putting together kits. However, he disagrees with assignments, and changes them when the four show up at the same time in his domain to get their supplies. 

That’s not overly shocking, the Double-O’s delight in making his staff nervous. Many of them don’t know how to handle one of the deadly agents, let alone more than one. That’s fine, he can deal with them and have the underlings fetch whatever is needed. 

“Wright, I am switching your assignment with Bond,” he tells the first two as he lifts the kits for each one. “There are full details on the situation and what you need to do in the envelope. Along with all of the travel arrangements and information on the target’s interests and desires.” He states as he calmly hands over the envelope with a green tag in the corner. 

Wright takes it with shrug, waiting to see if there is anything else he has to say. 

“Bond, your information and situation to deal with.” He states as he hands over a second envelope, this one with a thin purple mark on the corner. 

007 smiles at him, that cocky, come hither almost smirk as he accepts the envelope, fingers brushing against his even though they didn’t have to. Damn the man and his never ending flirting. 

Turning his attention to 003, he lifts the next envelope. This one tagged with an orange mark. “Moore, here’s your paperwork, there are further details past what you have already been briefed on.” He picks up the small black case with the supplies needed and hands it over as well “Please remember to read the labels before using.”

She nods as she accepts both the envelope and the small case. A moment later she’s gone as silently as she came. Of the four, she’s the only one who will actually listen, he’s sure. 

He turns to the last one, offering an envelope with a blue tag in the corner. “Martin, it’s supposed to be an in and out without getting caught, make it look like an accident, or one of the target’s guests is responsible for the death.”

009 nods in agreement taking the envelope and stepping to the side to read the details. 

While Bond and Wright assess the details that they will probably end up ignoring anyways, he changes their kits a bit to reflect the change in purpose before handing them over. 

The four Double-O’s have barely left his domain when Mallory comes down. Probably to find out why he switched them around. He continues to work, even as the older man watches him with narrow eyes until he finishes the task he is currently working on. 

“Why did you switch them?” The older man asks when he glances over. 

“Bond does better at seduction than Wright. Wright is a far better dancer, at least when it comes to dancing for long periods of time. Since the situation involves dancing the night away, it was prudent to send the agent who is more accomplished at it.” He answers as he pulls up some files on his laptop. 

He’s moderately sure that he’s driving Mallory up the wall. Really though, does no one read the complete briefs put together? 

“Was there any other changes?” M asks a moment later. 

“Nope, just the one, relatively minor but much more effective change.” He responds as he pushes his glasses back up. 

Mallory leaves without asking him anything else. 

“So, really, why did you change them?” R queries as she watches the door slide shut behind their boss. 

“For the exact reasons I gave,” he replies with a small shrug. 

She just chuckles, her attention being drawn away by an underling frowning rather hard at his computer. 

Actually, checking in with the different minions and underlings is an excellent idea since he doesn’t have anything major going on at this moment.


	9. Handling

R’s POV

When the new Q first took over, she didn’t know exactly what to make of him. He’s younger than most the people in the room, but smarter than the majority of them put together. Despite the fact she has spent years gathering information that people don’t realize she’s gathering, she can’t seem to find anything on him. It’s almost as if he didn’t exist prior to becoming Q but that’s not possible. He must have. It’s just a matter of where. 

He doesn’t have a noticeable accent and his mannerisms don’t give away his origins. Instead they change depending on who he is dealing with. Like a chameleon or one of the Double-O’s he handles on an almost daily bases. Normally he is calm, cool, and collected. There isn’t a lot of things that seem to bother him. When something does bother him, he just shrugs it off. 

The first real show of anger was when the new agent grabbed his arse and Q effectively neutralized him without breaking a sweat. It was intense. The minions still talk about it whenever their overlord isn’t in hearing range with awe and terror in their voices. Apparently the fact he defended them from the agents was unexpected and well appreciated. 

Normally they only have one or two Double-O’s in positions where they need live information. Right now they have six of them. The four that went out yesterday, and two that had been sent out two weeks. There is also a small army of other agents, both gathering intel and needing intel. It makes for a very crazy bullpen. 

Finally, Q steps to the middle of the room, right in front of his workstation and slowly pivots without saying a word. Each minion falls silent as his eyes pass over them, their attention immediately on him. 

“Take a breath, collect yourself, it is important that you do a good job, rather than an inaccurate rushed job.” The dark haired genius states, voice clean and firm. “This is the last time I will say this: if you do not feel capable of dealing with your currently task. Tell me. Tell R. We will reassign you and will assign someone else to it. The current assignments are based on past ability and work completed. I would rather change around mission briefs and jobs, than risk something going wrong because the wrong person is currently handling the situation. Do I make myself clear?”

There is a round of agreement from each of the minions before they return to what they were working on. It’s almost as if a cloud of pressure has been lifted from the air. There are two that ask for reassignment, one because he can’t handle the agent he is working with, the man keeps ignoring all of the provided intel. The other because he’s not confident in his ability to keep up with his agent and would prefer to have an assignment where speed is not extremely necessary. 

After quickly skimming the files for the agents and minions, Q switches them with a small nod, and a suggestion she keep an eye on them, along with the new bloke Liam. She agrees and goes to check in R&D to see if everything is still going according to schedule there. 

She’ll think about the young quartermaster after her shift, maybe even invite him out for drinks. She’d like to get to know the man she’s been working with for a while now, something that hasn’t yet happened except for small bits of seemingly meaningless details. She’s sure she’s not the only one curious about the private young man. 

**Author's Note:**

> Publishing schedule, I will try & update one or two stories on Saturday, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. For the 007 Fest there will be at least one Bond related story each day of the month of July. 
> 
> Tumblr about my writing [JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/money) and recently got a twitter to post about drawing & writing @jaimist0
> 
> I love reviews, comments, and any other sort of communication, feel free to stop in to say hi


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